I have attempted to clear the same single quest five times.

I appreciate that on the face of it that statement sounds alarmist or like I’m trying to hide some level of inability – the text equivalent of some YouTuber’s thumbnail of looking at something like an astonished frog. And while I will absolutely contend that there are failings on my part, I’m mostly just going to come out and say it: Pantheon Rise of the Fallen will never be the game I want it to be, as it’s a living example of everything wrong with the idea of the old school MMORPG.

I’ll first elaborate on what happened over the weekend, and that was getting back into the boots of the Paladin I rolled. I was generally pretty jazzed about this because it looked like the Shaman was going to win out for the longest time, but it lost out in the very end. So with a bit of confidence and curiosity, I decided to strike forth.

Most of what I was focusing on was once again the opening quests all about gathering, since I felt like honing those skills would probably be beneficial if for no other reason than to identify what materials look like in the interest of maybe crafting or at least selling those mats sometime down the road. And for a good while, everything was going great. The spread of where materials are for mining and where certain monsters for skinning wasn’t what I’d call logical, but I was able to move along.

As I did, I unlocked level five, a milestone level insofar as it brought me not only to a point when I could buy some stat point scrolls but also to the death penalty of the game: From here on out, when I die, I would take a hit to my XP and would drop my backpack full of things to try to relocate.

But that’s fine! I was already very much in the habit of spamming the “C” key to consider every target that walked ahead of me, and I was getting really in to the rotation of the class. I would just need to exercise more caution, but I didn’t feel any worry. I was even able to take on two even level enemies at once at one point. It felt like I was getting a handle of things.

But then it was time for me to find three potatoes, which is the point when it all fell apart for me.

As you can see in the image above, that little green nubbin on the ground is the node where this harvestable item lay. I am not sure that there’s any way to make the overhead nameplates larger or less opaque than they are now, so most of the time prior to finding this one spot, I was basically swinging my mouse cursor back and forth across my field of vision like it was a metal detector.

Along the journey, I was realizing that I had lost my sense of direction. This was getting more tense when I landed near some spaces where chevron enemies were camped. I’ve seen these before; these are mobs that are specifically tuned to be handled by a group specifically, regardless of what the /consider command pointed out. You do not engage with these monsters whatsoever unless you’re in a group. Period end.

My wandering, desperate search for potatoes did ultimately see me get to my needed three, but by that time I was hopelessly lost. During my attempt to regain my bearings, I unfortunately ended with my first death at the hand of one of these foes. I apparently moved a bit too close to one of these monsters, and my attempt to flee was fruitless. I don’t know if these creatures have a leash, but if they do, it is incredibly long, and this thing ran me down with unmatched speed and ferocity. The pop-up suggested I try to mark where I was before I released my soul, which saw me go back to my bind point.

All my equipment was still with me. All of my silver and copper was still with me. But the potatoes were gone, along with the food items, drink items, and two bags that expanded my inventory. And there is no map in this game whatsoever, meaning I had to try to guess where I had fallen.

I dusted myself off and attempted to find my corpse, diverting to continue to find potatoes while also hoping to keep track of my direction, but it kept on getting worse. My sense of in-game direction is absolutely pitiful, I will completely own up to. At one point I managed to be near a swamp with immediately deadly and aggressive creatures. I managed to find new camps of group-specific mobs. And time and again, I was run down over and over and over, dying, respawning, trying again, and failing again.

By attempt six, I gave up and called it done for the time being.

Here’s where I get to my complaints about Pantheon, or more specifically this masochistic idea of what a “real” MMORPG is.

I’m not going to pretend like I was one of those who raided when EverQuest was new. I’m not even going to claim that I got terribly far in my first true MMO Final Fantasy XI. I will also admit that I wholesale missed the boat on sandboxes like Ultima Online and Star Wars Galaxies. This genre only really stuck with me when I started playing City of Heroes, which technically makes me a late arrival to MMORPGs. I’m a veteran, but not a day-one veteran. I’m probably seen as still too fresh and new to the genre, in spite of playing over two decades, at least for the types of people eagerly playing throwback MMORPGs. Fine.

But at what point do people get off believing that removing regular features is a great design choice? What sort of studio lead looks at basic convenience functions and viciously points at it in condemnation as the nexus of when the genre went wrong? What is the danger in giving at least the barest bit of guidance? And why does wanting things like a simple map make me out to be the weirdo infidel?

Just to be clear, I’m not pulling these things out of thin air. Someone actually made a map plugin for the game and got roasted for it by other fans as another example of the genre losing its way.

I’ll get ahead of whatever frenzied fan defense I’m going to face for these thoughts in the comments below and point out that it will not be anywhere as hurtful as the insults that I am slinging at myself. I assure you, whatever barbs or mockery or vile things will be said will be nowhere near as painful as the self-flagellation I’m inflicting on myself. I promise that I am mentally tearing myself into ribbons. I already felt like I’m not worthy of doing what I do because I wasn’t there when the deep magic was written, and playing throwback MMOs renews that wound.

I also need to remind everyone that I am not reviewing Pantheon. This is not a review of Pantheon. I am not reviewing the game. This column is not meant to be a review. I am not writing a review. Choose My Adventure is not a review piece. I am not giving Pantheon a review score. This is not a review. I am not writing a review. Pantheon is unreviewed here. This is not a review.

It’s just my impressions of some gameplay sessions, and those impressions weren’t happy. I am sick, tired, frustrated, infuriated, and aghast at being made to seem like this is the “real” way that this genre should grow. I don’t get it. I never will get it I guess. And I suppose I need to stop forcing myself to try to get it. But I feel like I’m supposed to get it, so not being able to meet this mentality makes me feel like I’m the problem.

But I’m also a stubborn son of a sailor. So I’ll reassess and get back into this one, if for no other reason than pure spite. That does mean there’s no poll this week, but I will follow the instructions from last week. Needless to say, I am very frustrated.

Welcome to Choose My Adventure, the column in which you join Chris each week as he journeys through mystical lands on fantastic adventures – and you get to decide his fate. Which is good because he can often be a pretty indecisive person unless he’s ordering a burger.